


bring him home

by ididntwannashipit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Background Colton Haynes/Jeff Leatham, Background Dylan/Britt, Background Dylan/Tyler, Britt and Dylan Have Kids, Britt and Dylan are Married, Comic-Con, Coming Out, Future Fic, Multi, Polyamorous V Relationship, Polyamory, we're on a ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 21:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13221261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ididntwannashipit/pseuds/ididntwannashipit
Summary: It's been ten years since Dylan and Tyler managed to get their shit together and figured out with Britt how to turn Dylan's marriage into a working V polyamorous relationship. It's been ten years of seeing each other when they can, getting together as a full family only occasionally, and of everyone constantly missing Tyler. It's long past time to bring him home.





	bring him home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [froggydarren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/gifts).



> This goes out to froggydarren, for whom a character is named in this story, because it is all her fault I started writing RPF in the first place. This is actually the first story I started to write, even though it's not the first I've posted. I really wanted to finish it this year. I know, it's not Hobrien, not exactly. But I'm a big believer in solving love triangles with polyamorous relationships, and this one just seemed like such a logical solution to the problem of Dylan's with Britt and in love with Tyler. So. Here we go.

Even after twenty-five years, Dylan still loves that moment when he gets to wake up next to Britt. They don't spend as much time apart, now that they’re old enough to control their own careers, but it's still common for Dylan to wake into a cold hotel room on the other side of the world.

Being in his own bed is nice.

Even if they are about to hit the road for San Diego.

"Dad!" There's a thundering thump on the door. "Lissa says that Tyler isn't coming! You said that Tyler's going to be at ComicCon! Why is Lissa lying? She's trying to wind me up! Tell her it's not fair."

"Dyl, do you remember when you said _how could three be more difficult than two_?" Britt's voice is muffled by the pillow. "Do you remember when Jules said _one of them is going to be just like you, Dyl_ … and I laughed, because how could that be bad?" She reaches out with one toe, pokes him under the covers. "Go deal with Jen."

"You could get up," Dylan suggests, but he's already rolling out of bed, rooting around on the floor for the boxers he left there somewhere the night before.

Britt snorts into her pillow, yanks the blankets up over her head, and doesn't bother to reply.

The pounding on the door starts again. "Dad! Gabe says he's not going! I thought Gabe was going with us! Does that mean Lissa's going? I don't want Lissa to go! And what about Tyler??"

"Jen." Dylan pulls the door open, standing to one side so she doesn't pound on his chest instead of the door. "Ty's meeting us in San Diego. Gabe can come if he wants--I told him we'd talk about it this morning. Lissa's still not going; Aunt Jules is coming here to stay with her. And Gabe if he stays."

"I'm sixteen. I can stay by myself." Lissa skulks by, her hoodie covering her face, fingers flying in the air as she types on an unseen keyboard. "I have my license, remember?"

"And you're grounded," Jen sing-songs. "Have an awesome time with Aunt Jules."

Lissa pushes the hoodie back, presses her middle finger to her cheek. Her VR headband wraps around her head, a readout hovering just in front of her left eye. "Yeah, I will. Have an awesome time stuck with all the grown-ups being boring," she grumbles back. "Aunt Jules knows how to have fun."

"Jules knows I'll kill her if you have too much fun," Dylan mutters.

He really wonders when this became his life. When he had kids, he supposes, now that he's the responsible one. The dad. And it still seems so surreal, because somewhere in his heart he's still that nineteen year old kid stepping onto the set of Teen Wolf for the first time, with no idea how to act.

"I'm gonna be in my room." Lissa tugs the hoodie back up, taps out something in the air. "Tell me when Aunt Jules gets here. And I _know_ , I can't talk to Jordan. I'm just talking to Emily. Have a blast at ComicCon. Tell Uncle Tyler I said hi. And he owes me a birthday present because he was in Kenya again, but I forgive him. It just better be good."

"Lissa…."

"What?" She peeks out from under her hoodie, her cheeks flushed. "I just miss him, okay? He's family. Tell him to get his ass here next time he's in the States and stop avoiding us. It's like he doesn't love us anymore."

Ouch. The conversation is getting far more serious than Dylan intended, and possibly more serious than he really can handle before he hits the road.

"He'll be coming back with us after San Diego," he says quietly, and Lissa lights up brightly, grinning.

"Seriously? For how long?"

That's a question that's still on the table, and as complicated as everything is--as everything has been for the last ten years--Dylan doesn't know the answer yet. Hopefully he'll have some idea before they hit the road home. "A while, I think," he says quietly. 

There's a creak from the bedroom door, and Britt stands there, her hair tangled and loose from the braid she put it in before bed. She rubs her eyes, makes a face at Dylan before turning her attention to Lissa. "He'll be staying as long as he wants," she says.

Lissa's gaze narrows and her fingers stop moving. Her hands fall, then she raises them again to slowly push the hood back from her face. Her expression wavers between a deep frown and sudden bright hope. "Does this mean--?"

Dylan hates being put on the spot by his sixteen year old kid who knows way more than she should, but they'd agreed long ago not to lie to any of them.

"I'm getting my own hotel room in San Diego," Jen says, smirking. "Unless Mom wants to share. She can take the other bed if Dad and Tyler want--"

"Nope." Dylan claps a hand over Jen's mouth. If being put on the spot by his sixteen year old is bad, having his twelve year old reference _that_ is even worse. "We are not discussing this. Private adult topics are going to remain private adult topics."

"God, Dad, as if we didn't know you guys bang like bunnies when you see each other." Lissa rolls her eyes. "Text me, Jen. Lots."

Jen pushes Dylan's hand away from her mouth. "I am happy to talk to you if you're not going with us," She says seriously. "But if you do go with us, I refuse to talk to you at all."

Britt snorts, shakes her head. "And Gabe's still undecided?"

"I'll go check in with him." Dylan can hear the faint sounds of some game from the end of the hall. He makes his way down, raps his knuckles on the door before nudging it open.

Gabe holds up his hand, stays intent on his screen. Dylan's patient for a few minutes, then clears his throat.

"Fine," Gabe grumbles, backing out of the game. "It's not like any good players are up yet, anyway."

"I thought you were coming with us," Dylan says, taking a seat on the bed. "Didn't you have someone you wanted to meet up with--" He barely gets the words out before Gabe's interrupting him.

"We broke up," Gabe mutters. "I don't want to see him. I don't want to see anyone."

"Do you want us to stay here?" First heartbreak sucks and Dylan remembers the pain of it. "I mean, Jules will probably spoil you rotten, but if this is a parent-needed situation...."

Gabe rolls his eyes. "I don't need my mom hovering over me, and you've got that big thing going on, anyway. I'm pretty sure they'll mutiny if you don't show up, right? I'll be okay with Aunt Jules. Besides. You're taking Jen with you, and she's what I don't need right now, being all little sisterish and everything. He was just some guy, okay? I'm fourteen. I mean. There'll be someone else. Right?" When he looks up, Dylan sees that lost expression that he expects, and he reaches out, tugs Gabe into a hard hug.

"There'll be someone else," Dylan murmurs, holding onto his son for a beat longer than he figures Gabe wants, but maybe not as long as he might need right now. "First love is something you get over eventually."

"You never got over yours."

Dylan wants to contradict him, but he can't. "You're right," he says. "But that didn't stop me from falling in love with your mom, too. Love is complicated, Gabe. You have to be open to whatever it brings, and right now, you've got your whole life ahead of you to find out what that is."

"Mom says she's getting in the shower and you should eat breakfast because we're supposed to be on the road in an hour or you're going to be late for the meet and greet thing and do I get to go to that?" Jen yells from down the hall.

Gabe winces. "I'm so glad she's going with you. She's really excited about it."

"She's going to tell everyone at ComicCon that she's named after a creepy villain," Dylan admits. "I've heard her practicing. She won't listen when we tell her that she's named after a relative."

"Because we've never met a relative named Jen," Gabe says dryly. "Honestly, Dad."

Dylan ruffles Gabe's hair, reaching for him when he ducks away. It's funny how the motion reminds him of the Sheriff and Stiles rather than his own family. It's something that makes him think of his substitute father more than anything else.

Which is appropriate right now, he supposes. He'll be seeing Linden, and everyone else, in just a few hours, after all.

"I'm going to be okay. Go." Gabe shoves at Dylan, and he rises, lets his son put his headphones back on and dive into the game.

By the time Dylan showers, then shoves his toiletries into the bag Britt already packed, he can hear Jules's voice downstairs. He shoulders the bag and carries it down, dropping it by the door before his sister grabs him for a hug.

"Have a blast, and don't worry about your crazy teenagers," she says. "I won't let them do anything you would've done."

"Haha," Dylan mock laughs, and she only hugs him again.

"It's this weekend, right?" Jules says, and Dylan needs the way Britt's hand on his arm steadies him.

"Yeah," he says, and it's a wonder that his voice doesn't break. "Twenty-fifth reunion of the show's launch."

Jules is silent, that small smile quirking the corner of her mouth. "Give them hell," she finally says. "And bring him home. It's long overdue."

_Bring him home_.

He carries the bag out to the car, hears Jules inside the house trying to wrangle his children. He knows Jen will be out soon, but this is a small, precious moment of quiet with just him and Britt as they stow their things.

"She's right," Britt says quietly. "That it's long overdue. We should've done this a long time ago."

"We weren't ready," Dylan replies. "He wasn't ready." He leans against the car, tries to get his breathing under control. "This is huge. Are you sure you're ready? This could tank everything--"

"I'm ready," Britt tells him. She slots herself between his knees, frames his face. He has to look down, but as short as she is, she always seems so big to him. Strong personality, which… makes sense, considering everyone around him. She kisses him, and Dylan exhales in a low whoosh. "We're ready," she says. "All of us. We'll be fine. And if the press wants to be a bunch of asshats, well, they can just go fuck themselves."

"Swear jar," Jen says cheerily as she yanks open the door and climbs into the back seat.

"She's so yours," Britt says, and really, Dylan can't argue the point.

#

The guest liaison meets them when they arrive and helps get them up to the pair of rooms they have reserved. Both rooms are still antiseptically empty, aside from a welcome basket in the larger of the two, and chocolate mints on the pillows that Jen steals as soon as she sees them. Jen bounces on one of the two beds in the double-double while unwrapping a mint.

"Do I get to go to the meet and greet or is that just a cast and people who paid a lot of money kind of thing?" she asks. "I get to go to that dinner tonight, right? The one on the boat."

"You get to go to dinner tonight, yes, and Colton's girls will be there, too, so try not to end up going overboard or hijacking the entire boat," Dylan says. He's seen Jen with Colton's girls before, and it's never pretty. In fact, it can be downright terrifying. "The meet and greet is just the core cast from the first season, plus the twenty-five people who paid a ton of money to have us to themselves, so no, you can't be there. Neither can your mom."

"Which means you and I are going to start by going shopping," Britt says. "Colton said Jeff's at loose ends, so we're meeting him and the girls and going out. We'll catch up with your dad on the ship tonight." She leans in, palm at the back of Dylan's neck as she kisses him. "Love you. Have fun, and try not to worry too much about the fans."

Dylan laughs dryly. "I'm forty-four. I did this crazy-ass show twenty-five years ago that was my first big gig, landed me an entire family's worth of friends, and somehow became the defining moment of my life despite everything else I did after. And these people have been fans for more than half my life. Wouldn't you be a little afraid of them?"

Britt smiles against his lips, kisses him one more time before drawing back. "Yes," she admits. "But remember they love you, and they'll all want pictures of how you've gotten a little grey, and the wrinkles around your eyes."

"You love my wrinkles."

"I love your wrinkles."

"God, could you two be any more gross?" Jen grabs her bag and throws it over her shoulder, points at the door. "Come on, Mom. Or do you guys need to go in the other room and I'll just text Lissa or something."

"We're fine." Britt trails her fingers across his cheek, and Dylan remembers her being there when that cheek was still under construction. Reconstruction. When he was shattered and broken and terrified of the future.

He catches her hand and kisses her palm. "I'll see you later. And I'll take care of things before dinner."

She grins at him, blows him one more kiss before she's gone. Dylan's sure it's going to be an epic day of shopping, and that the bills will be high. Colton taught his daughters well, and they love taking Jen out. Dylan's wallet will regret it.

On the other hand, Dylan needs to do some things.

Things.

Like seeing Tyler, and making arrangements.

His hands shake, and fuck, it's like being nineteen all over again. He hasn't gotten a VR band yet; he just doesn't like the new technology, prefers being able to touch the screen on his phone. He presses Tyler's name, says quietly, "Are you here yet?" and lets it send the message.

A moment later, Tyler's voice replies, "Room 316. Tell me where you are. Tanner said he'd drop my things off while we're at the meet and greet."

Something loosens in Dylan's chest, and he reels off the room number, promises to leave the key at the main desk.

Promises to see Tyler soon, down at the meet and greet.

His liaison knocks on the door a few minutes later, and Dylan follows her through the hotel and down to one of the main rooms. She's talking to some voice in her ear as she pushes the door open, and Dylan is struck first by the scent of hot wings and chicken tenders, and second by the crowd that's waiting just on the other side.

Someone squeals, and rushes toward the door, and he takes a step back rather than going through.

"Dylan!" Colton pushes through the crowd, grabs Dylan's hands and brings him into the room, past the pair of women being held back by security, watching them avidly.

"Where's…?" Dylan doesn't even get to finish the question before there's another small scream behind him. He twists quickly, spots Tyler hesitating in the doorway.

Fuck he looks good.

Dylan licks his lips, tries to ignore the way Colton chuckles softly. He dimly registers that security is pulling the fans to one side of the room, letting the cast gather on the other side. Someone touches Dylan's shoulder, and he turns to be pulled into a back-slapping embrace from Posey, followed by a handshake and a shoulder clap from Linden. Melissa holds on for long enough that Dylan can almost let some tension go, exhaling slowly. Holland and Crystal catch him next, and Colton makes a show of air kisses that makes the fans laugh. JR and Ian both clap his shoulders on the way by, while Eaddy kisses his cheek. Jill mimes fangs at him, and he laughs, because he knows he's supposed to.

All that's left at the end is Tyler, standing there like it's one end of a receiving line, and he's waiting his turn. Dylan's all too aware of the fans standing on the other side of the room, watching and waiting their turn to mingle with the cast. He smiles slightly, opens his arms, and Tyler grabs him, hugs him hard and slaps his ass so hard that Dylan yelps.

The main door opens again, and Orny yells something as he comes in and Dylan doesn't care what it is because for five seconds, there are no eyes on him. For the space of a breath, he can pull back and look at Tyler, while everyone else focuses on Keahu and Orny entering the room.

"So. Filming's done?" Posey asks, and suddenly he's there between them, an arm around each of their shoulders. "Hoech, that's gonna be one fucking awesome movie, you know that, right? Real breakout role. Women'll be throwing their panties at you."

Tyler winces. "I'm hoping it's not that bad," he says, and Dylan smiles slightly at his concerned expression. "But yeah, we wrapped two days ago. I'm on vacation now."

"That's awesome! Where are you going?" Posey motions, and Holland drifts their way, Colton by her side. 

Tyler glances at Dylan, and Dylan has to resist reaching out, tangling their fingers together and laying claim on him. "Actually," Tyler says slowly. "The last email I got from my goddaughter said that her sister was threatening to change the locks if I didn't bring her a birthday present I owed her."

"That would be your goddaughter," Dylan says dryly, when Posey laughs. "Please tell me you're not encouraging her."

"I'm not," Posey says. "Maybe you should blame Jules. Lissa does have two godparents."

"Jules likes me," Tyler says with a small grin, almost hidden behind his scruff. "And Jen's my spy in the house; she keeps me up to date on everything that happens. But yeah, I'm going to go stay with Britt and Dyl for a bit. Catch up with my own goddaughter, hang out with the kids. Spoil them rotten."

"The kids or me?" Dylan asks, expression innocent.

"The kids and Britt," Tyler deadpans, and everyone laughs.

It feels like a private moment when Tyler drifts closer to him, when their fingers touch. It's just a momentary squeeze before Tyler is pulled away, into a cluster of fans that approach nervously. Dylan has his own cluster to deal with a moment later, but he knows what Tyler meant. Knows everything that can't be said, not right now.

It's okay. They've got time. And maybe soon they'll have all the time in the world.

#

There's a chartered cruise that night for just cast and crew and their families, and Dylan's looking forward to the chance to catch up with everyone without prying eyes on them. He almost trips over the extra suitcase in his room, and smiles slightly to see it there. He grabs his phone, calls out, "Tyler. Aren't you getting changed for tonight?" He's not worried about his wife and daughter; Dylan knows they'll meet at the ship, and that both of them will probably be dressed to the nines in something new.

There are bags littered all over the connecting room as it is; it looks like every nearby boutique might be represented.

He's hunting for his favorite pair of jeans when the phone vibrates, just before Tyler's voice replies. "I'm getting changed in Tanner's room. We wanted to do a few things before we go over to the ship. I'll see you there, Dyl."

There his jeans are. Dylan skins out of the slacks he's wearing and yanks on the jeans, hopping a bit to get them up. They're tight--tight enough that they embarrass his kids, which Dylan figures means they're just right. He's not dressing up for this dinner. It's supposed to be a chance to hang out with his family and closest friends, with the people who were such a huge part of his life for so long. It's everyone--all the main crew, and every major player from the show.

No fans, and no press.

He yanks on a shirt, sits down to get his shoes on, the bed giving way beneath him. He pauses, turns to touch the comforter.

Yeah, it's for the best that Tyler's not here, even though his clothes are. God knows how late they'd be, and wouldn't that start conversations?

Dylan knows the conversations are coming. There's no way to avoid it, not anymore. Not if they all want to be happy, and after so long, Dylan's more than ready to take this step. But he wants it to happen under his control. He wants to orchestrate how it comes out, and arriving disheveled to an event is not the way to go.

He pulls up Britt's contact information on his phone, sends a picture of how he looks, then says, "Getting a ride over now, so I'll see you soon. Has Jen taken over the ship yet?"

He's in the car by the time Britt replies with a picture of Jen, Aimee, and Bea. The three girls look innocent, but Dylan wonders what they're plotting. Because he's sure they're plotting something; they always are when they get together.

He ducks out of the car and is ushered on the boat as soon as he arrives. He passes by a small knot of old friends, pauses to get a hug from Shelley. She squeezes his hands, points toward the bow. Dylan threads through the crowd, greets former castmates and their family. In the distance, he can hear Jen's voice, but he hones in on the sound of Britt, Colton, and Tyler and follows their voices toward the bow.

Colton is sprawled on one bench, his arm across the back, almost on Britt's shoulder. She leans forward, talking to Tyler, who sits on the other bench.

Tyler breaks into a smile, rises, and Britt cuts off.

Fuck it, Dylan is taking his goddamned hug this time.

Tyler opens his arms, and Dylan grabs him, pulls him in and twists his hands in Tyler's shirt. His nose is pressed to the side of Tyler's throat, and he feels Tyler's mouth on his shoulder as Tyler bows his head. Tyler holds on just as hard, and the hug stretches on, as Dylan's loathe to let go.

"Can I take pictures?" Colton asks.

"You can't post them, unless we say so," Britt replies softly.

Tyler's grip eases, and Dylan lets go as well, steps back and puts a little space between them. He wants nothing more than to lean in, taste Tyler's kiss, feel the burn of his beard against his skin.

Tyler smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He runs his fingers along Dylan's cheek. "You shaved for the panel?"

Dylan tugs at the v-neck of Tyler's shirt, mock pouts. "And you didn't shave for the panel." He pats Tyler's chest, hand lingering over the strong beat of Tyler's heart. "Not that I'm sharing."

Colton coughs; Britt snickers.

"I saved you a seat." Tyler tugs and Dylan goes with him, sinking down onto the bench. Tyler's arm drops across his shoulder, and Dylan turns to tangle his legs with Tyler, leaning back against him.

"We're on a ship," Dylan deadpans.

"Wait." Colton gets one hand up, grabs for his phone with the other. He aims it toward them, then signals. "Go on."

Dylan blinks into the camera. "Are you recording this for posterity?"

Colton raises his eyebrows, peering over the top of his phone. "Go on," he repeats.

Tyler reaches across, presses a finger to Dylan's lips. "Shh," Tyler whispers, eyes closing.

Dylan licks at his finger, catches the tip and pulls it into his mouth. When Tyler slips it out, cover's Dylan's mouth with his hand, Dylan pouts.

"What was that?" Tyler asks, pulling his hand away slowly.

Dylan turns to look at him, finds Tyler so close, easy enough to reach out and capture that hand before it fully escapes and bring it back to his lips to kiss the fingertips. "We're on a ship," he says slowly. "Pun intended."

"After all this time?" Tyler asks, his eyes crinkling with his smile.

"Always," Dylan replies quietly. He slips his hand behind Tyler's head, tugs just enough that their noses brush, foreheads leaning against each other. He can breathe in Tyler's air this way, narrow the world down to just the two of them.

Tyler tilts his head, just barely brushes Dylan's lips with his own.

"Do not post that until we say you can," Britt says firmly.

Colton coughs, makes a mock-disgusted sound. "It's like you don't know me. It stays in the vault unless you tell me I can let it out. In the meantime, though, I want a family picture. Where did our hellions go?" He touches his phone, asks, "Jeff, do you have eyes on our girls?"

"On our way." It's only a few moments and Jeff appears, ushering all three girls before him. Jen makes a beeline for Dylan, crawling into his lap and managing to sprawl into Tyler as well.

There're dirty spots on Jen's skirt where it looks like she's been kneeling on the ground, probably crawling under something. It's nothing compared to the streaks across Bea's cheeks that have Colton pulling her close, rubbing his wet thumb over her skin to clean her, as if she's three instead of eleven.

Aimee snickers, which gets her a close inspection as well. Colton repositions the clip in her hair, then pulls a leaf from her hair.

"Really?" Colton asks, holding it up.

"We were on the upper deck," Aimee says.

"And there was a leaf pile someone didn't clean up." Bea clucks her tongue, disappointed.

"There was a ring--"

"--and Jen spotted it--"

"--so she rescued it--"

"And we turned it in to the captain!" the two girls finish in chorus.

Jen leans back, pats Tyler's cheek. "Hi, Ty. We've been having adventures. How about you?"

"Just sitting here with your dad until you decided to come between us." The laugh lines around Tyler's eyes don't match his dry tone. Still, Jen huffs as if she's insulted, and she goes to push away until Dylan wraps his arms around her and hugs her quickly.

"Family picture." Colton motions to the bench where Dylan and Tyler already sit. He waves his hand, and Crystal comes over, reaches for the stack of phones that are handed to her.

It takes some time to get themselves arranged. Dylan and Tyler stay in the center of the bench, with Britt taking the space next to Dylan. He sprawls back, his legs stretched out, arms behind the shoulders of both Britt and Tyler. Colton and Jeff arrange themselves on Tyler's other side, and the three girls crouch down to sit in front of their parents.

Crystal takes the same picture several times, until Dylan's cheeks ache from smiling.

Crystal finally hands the phones back to Colton, who quickly turns back to take one more shot, before Dylan, Britt, and Tyler can get up. He captures them at the moment while Dylan turns to say something to Tyler, but he tugs Britt with him, and she kisses his cheek. And Tyler stares at Dylan like he's the world, making warmth curl in Dylan's gut.

Britt touches the screen, glances at Dylan. He nods, waits until Tyler whispers, "Sure. Yeah."

"You can post that one," Britt okays, and Colton grins.

Dylan takes out his own phone and turns off notifications, and in his peripheral vision, he sees Britt and Tyler doing the same. This is just the start of the story. Dylan doesn't want to be inundated, not yet. Not until they're ready.

#

Waking up with Tyler is entirely different than waking up with Britt. Tyler is awake before Dylan, lying on his side, elbow bent, free hand resting on Dylan's side. As Dylan takes in the sight, tries to adjust to the fact that is this wonderful rarity, Tyler leans in, brushes a kiss against Dylan's lips.

"She's already knocked. Twice," Tyler whispers. "I think Britt threw something at the door last time. I almost let her in so Britt could sleep."

Because of course Jen's awake and ready to get the day rolling.

It's going to be a hell of a day.

"That doesn't mean we have to get up immediately," Dylan points out, trying to keep his voice low. He wouldn't put it past his daughter to be sitting right on the other side of the connecting door, while Britt is still very much asleep.

Dylan rolls over on his back, one hand on the nape of Tyler's neck tugging him along. They end up stretched out together, kissing lazily because as much as Dylan would love to do more, there really isn't time. Or enough privacy.

A sharp knock on the connecting door reminds him of that fact.

"I'm sure you're awake now, Dad," Jen calls out. "Mom's making grunting noises at the pillow, so she'll probably want coffee soon."

"Start the coffee maker, I know you know how," Dylan calls back. Tyler rolls out of bed, pads into the bathroom and closes the door, while Dylan laments the loss of the view.

"I'm having a cup of coffee." Jen's voice lilts up, although it's obviously not meant to be a question. For a brief moment Dylan considers reminding his daughter that she's twelve, and twelve year olds don't need coffee. But it's also a distraction, and well, he's pretty sure that Jen on caffeine won't be any worse than he was at that age. It may even help.

"As long as you're behind a closed door and your mom's asleep, it's not like anyone can tell you no," Dylan points out, amused by the little cheer then silence that follows.

He gets up, adjusts his boxers and pads over to the bathroom. He knocks once, waits for the door to open, then stops as Tyler puts a hand in the middle of his chest. Tyler holds up the toothbrush, finishes brushing and spits.

"Whatever you're thinking, it's probably not a good idea for this morning," Tyler points out. "Don't we have a ten o'clock panel?"

"Ten o'clock original cast panel, followed by an eleven o'clock smaller panel for just you and me and probably a shit-ton of Q&A, yep." Dylan shucks his boxers, kicking them back into the room. "Showering together will take less time, right?"

Tyler laughs, and Dylan feels the familiar twist in his chest at the sound. It's been so long, but he remembers when that laugh wasn't his. When he wanted it more than anything, but couldn't even let Tyler know. They've come a long way since then, and all he wants to do is keep Tyler laughing. Keep those laugh lines crinkling around his eyes, the sparkle in the way he looks at Dylan.

He really wants a few other things, too, but he's also pretty sure Ty's going to stand his ground on that this morning.

Dylan groans softly, grips Tyler's face in his hands and plants a long kiss on his lips. "Fine. Fine. I'll shower by myself, and you go order room service for four, and see if you can keep Jen to one cup of coffee instead of more. Bribe her with donuts and pineapple; that usually works."

"She still love those puffy apple pancakes?" Tyler suggests. "I was thinking of getting those this morning. It's been awhile since I've had one."

"It'll work." Dylan's gaze rakes over Tyler, and he has to grab his shoulders and shove him out of the bathroom. "Now go. Or else you're getting in this shower with me, and we will prove my kids right."

Tyler's brows furrow. "Your kids? What do they--?"

"Lissa claims they know we bang like bunnies." Dylan wiggles his eyebrows. "Wanna bang like bunnies?"

"I don't know which part of that was more disturbing--that you talked about your kids in order to get me in the shower, or the eyebrow wiggling thing." Tyler covers his eyes, backs up slowly. "I'm going to get breakfast. Because next time you and I _bang like bunnies_ ," he says it in a dry tone, rolling his eyes, "I don't want to be thinking about Lissa."

Dylan nudges the door mostly shut behind him, aiming for a modicum of privacy. It occurs to him briefly that maybe he should call room service, so Tyler isn't the one placing the order, or answering the door. But that seems too paranoid.

And none of that will matter by lunch time, anyway.

When he emerges from the shower, thankfully wrapped in a towel, Jen is bouncing on the bed, and Tyler is wearing a thick, white, fluffy hotel bathrobe.

"Mom said she's showering and drinking coffee before she comes in here," Jen says, each word punctuated by a little bounce. "I had a half cup of coffee. It was sort of gross, so that's why I only had a half cup. Mom said I couldn't put more sugar in it because the creamer already has sugar. She also said sugar's gross in coffee, but I think that's just her weird taste."

"I'm impressed you drank a half a cup if it's that awful," Tyler says.

Jen pins him with a look. "I needed my coffee," she says, and she sounds so much like Britt that Dylan laughs out loud.

"Jen, go back in the other room, let your mom know that breakfast will be here--" Dylan glances at Tyler, who checks his watch, then holds up one hand, fingers spread. "Breakfast will be here in five minutes. I'm going to get dressed and throw Ty in the shower, and I'll let you know when it's safe to come back."

"Hmph. It's boring over there. I've been awake for _hours_. When do we leave for the convention? Do I have to stay with you all day?" Jen sulks all the way to the door, then pauses there and tilts her head as she leans against the frame. "I do want to see your panel though. I actually liked Teen Wolf. You two totally should've hooked up on the show." She slips through and tugs the door shut behind herself.

"It's going to be like this every day, isn't it," Tyler says, and it's not a question.

"Every single day," Dylan agrees. He wraps his arms around Tyler, sliding his hands under the bathrobe to find the bare skin of Tyler's back. "Regretting your decision?"

"Never." Tyler kisses him lightly, pulls back just as there's another knock on the connecting door.

"Don't get distracted!" Jen yells. "I want my breakfast! And Mom's groaning something about breakfast, too!"

"How did you ever have sex enough to manage to have three kids?" Tyler asks, a wry smile twisting his lips.

"I have learned so many tricks about being quick. Like showers." Dylan raises his eyebrows. "I did offer. You need to learn from the master, Ty."

Tyler's gaze flicks to the door, then back to Dylan, just at the moment when Dylan licks his lips and grins. Dylan undoes the fold in his towel, holding it up with a twist of it in his hand. Tyler groans softly, mutters, "Fuck it," and shrugs out of the bathrobe.

They leave the robe and towel in a puddle on the floor, as Dylan chases Tyler into the bathroom and locks the door behind them.

#

"You know, most people's parents barely have sex at all." Jen spears a bite of pancake, shoves it in her mouth and keeps talking around the apple and dough. She points at Dylan with her fork to emphasize her point. "Like Marcee? Says her parents fight about it all the time, like how her dad's never around and when he finally is, her mom has to work late, and then they like send all the kids out of the house and then I guess they argue later because they slept instead of banging."

"I really don't want to know about Marcee's parents' sex life." Britt reaches over, touches Jen's hand until she lowers the fork and stops spraying syrup. "Chew. Swallow. Then talk."

"Is that why Marcee stays over so often?" Dylan wonders.

"Probably," Jen decides, and goes for another too-big bite.

"Don't we have to leave soon?" Tyler asks, and Dylan nudges his knee under the table. 

Breakfast is almost done, and would be done if Jen weren't finishing up half of Britt's apple pancake. Britt leans back in her chair, cradling her second cup of coffee like it's a lifeline. Tyler is eating his last strip of turkey bacon, and staring at his plate like it might manifest a second pancake on its own.

It's cute when Tyler decides to give in and just eat anything. Dylan knows he'll hear about it later, but damn, he likes seeing Tyler indulge himself.

Someday, when they're all old and grey and not worrying about what they look like on camera, he hopes he and Britt and Tyler can all just do whatever they want. Eat whatever they want and spend every morning waking up together.

It sounds nice.

Jen's phone buzzes, and she takes it out. Whatever it says is good enough for her to drop her fork with a few bites of pancake still on the plate. She cradles the phone in both hands as she digs in her pocket for her VR piece and tucks it over her ear. She blinks and Dylan knows she sees the screen hanging in the air--he may be old-fashioned, but he knows how the tech works--and a moment later she's moving her fingers, scrolling or typing or something.

"Hey, Dad, did you know you're famous?" She speaks half-distractedly, and looks offended when the adults all laugh.

"Did you miss the part where your parents are movie stars?" Tyler asks, and Jen sticks her tongue out at him.

"My parents are super romantic dorks who are in love with another super romantic dork, which is okay, because I really do love all of you, but _honestly_ , Dad is so far past relevant. He's like, _old_." Jen rolls her eyes. "But that picture Uncle Colton posted last night… Aimee just sent me the link and it totally blew up and has like a million likes and shares. And oh yeah, people are talking about Mom and Uncle Tyler, too."

Dylan reaches for his own phone, but Tyler stops him with a hand over his. They pause like that, then Tyler tangles his fingers with Dylan and squeezes. 

When Dylan looks across the table at Britt, she reaches out both of her hands, waits for them each to take one.

"We wait," Britt says. "No social media until after the panels, okay?"

"Stick with the plan," Dylan says.

"It's a good plan," Tyler adds, raising the hand that's linked with Dylan's to press a kiss to his fingertips.

Jen shakes her head, rolls her eyes again. "Gross. So gross."

Just for that, Dylan has to tug, standing up to lean across the table and kiss Britt long and hard first, then sinking back down into his seat so he can grab Tyler and do the same. Jen groans as if it's the worst morning in the world, and Britt squeezes Tyler's hand as he kisses her fingertips before letting go.

It's the best morning. And it's just the beginning.

#

There are photographers outside the hotel, like there always are. Tyler is on his phone the whole way down, checking in with Tanner and letting him know that everything's going well so far. Tanner meets them at the car but it's only long enough to let them know that he has to head home and he feels like shit because he won't be there at the convention center.

The cameras click away when Tanner clasps Dylan's hand and then pulls him in for a backslapping hug. They click again when Tanner hugs Britt and kisses her cheek, then crouches down to hug Jen as well. They don't stop until Tanner's done hugging Tyler and they let Tanner squeeze through the crowd and escape.

There's silence then, cameras lowered as the press stares at them all. Jen sidles closer to Tyler, and one camera flashes brightly.

Dylan could tell them to leave them alone--he has the power to do it and make it stick. Or he could claim this moment for his family.

He nods to Britt, and she steps in close to Dylan, nudging him up against Tyler. Dylan gets his arms behind both their backs, and Tyler has on arm across Dylan's shoulders, while Britt has her hand out of sight, right on the top of Dylan's ass. Britt's free hand rests on Jen's shoulder where she stands in front of them, Tyler echoing the movement on Jen's other side.

Jen tilts her head back to look at them, and that's when the cameras start firing.

They let the moment be captured until their handler urges them into the car. It's hard not to start the story early, when Tyler's right there. Dylan could kiss Britt, could kiss Tyler, could make a fucking statement right now, but he knows this isn't the moment. But as soon as they're in the backseat of the car, behind the privacy of heavily tinted windows, Tyler grabs him, kisses him like they're both drowning.

When Dylan pulls back, he knows what Tyler's thinking. He reaches up, runs his fingers through his hair, strokes the backs of his fingers along the roughness of his scruff. "It's going to all be okay."

Britt squeezes into the same seat on Tyler's other side, leaving Jen room to stretch out across the opposite bench. She winds her fingers with Tyler's, tilts her head on his shoulder. "Lissa's excited that you're coming home," she says quietly. "So's Gabe."

"How can you tell?" Tyler raises his eyebrows, and Dylan snorts.

"They actually talked about it," Britt says firmly. "And you know Jules is glad. And Tanner wants to see you happy."

"It's been a little rough, but yeah." 

Dylan suspects it's been a lot harder on Tyler with his traditional family than it has for him. But he knows they support him now, even if it took some time to get there.

Tyler shifts, gets an arm around Britt's shoulders and pulls her close, kissing the top of her head. They don't have the same kind of relationship with each other that Dylan has with either of them, but it's all good. They've spent years working it out, and they're ready to go forward.

Still, when the car pulls up in front of the convention center, and Jen goes for the handle of the door, Dylan freezes. Because this is it.

There's no going back after this.

"Love you," Britt murmurs, and Tyler echoes the sentiment.

Air rushes out of his lungs, and Dylan closes his eyes for a moment. "Love you both, so fucking much," he whispers. When he opens his eyes, he nods to Jen to get the door, and then the driver is there as well, ushering them out.

Cameras click constantly as their handler gets them inside the convention center, works on walking them to the green room. They're the last group to arrive, Britt and Jen leaving them there to go find their place with the other family members in the audience.

It's not a large panel, just the original core cast, plus Jeff Davis. Jeff rises as they enter the room, gaze flicking from them both to where Tyler has his hand at Dylan's lower back, and the way he keeps it there, even while Dylan hugs Crystal and Holland as if he hadn't just spent the previous evening with them.

It's funny, to look at Jeff now, after twenty-five years since they first met. Jeff's gone gray in the years since then, a little soft around the middle. He's had occasional successes since Teen Wolf, but nothing that was as big, or as strong, as the juggernaut that Teen Wolf became. He's wearing a t-shirt with the logo from the first season on it, and Dylan wonders if in his mind, they're still there, still just starting out.

As if they haven't all gone on and prospered beyond the show.

At the two minute warning, the coordinator for the panel lines them up in the order they'll enter, walks them down to the entrance for the room. Holland leads the group, with Colton next to her, then Tyler, Crystal, and Dylan. Posey and Jeff bring up the rear of the line, as star and creator.

Dylan fidgets as they wait for the door to open, wait for the moment that they can walk in. Tyler leans around Crystal, gets a hand on Dylan's shoulder and holds him down, while Crystal laughs and stage whispers, "Thank you."

Then the door opens, and it's time.

Dylan's never had a worse case of stage fright, and he's never felt so ready to actually get something done.

There's a roar from the crowd when Tyler heads out, and Dylan watches as Tyler walks to his chair, one hand lifted to greet the crowd. It's a big crowd out there. He knew they were in one of the larger halls, but he hadn't expected it to be this big. It's been twenty-five years since they started… almost twenty since the series ended. And the fans are right here, waiting for them to come back.

Dylan walks out as soon as Crystal stops behind her chair. He waves at the fans, spots Britt and Jen to one side, standing, and blows them a kiss. Tyler is still standing, and he leans behind Crystal, pulls Dylan into a hug and the crowd goes wild.

"Oh no." Crystal leans down to the mic in front of her chair. "I've been here before and I am not doing this again. Dyl, let's just switch seats."

It's not choreographed. None of this is planned out, not exactly. The cast is aware, in theory, of what's happening here, but Dylan didn't ask Crystal for this.

He spreads his hands. "You don't have to do this."

"Oh, I want to do this," Crystal replies, shaking her head and grinning. "Anyone who's ever had to sit between the two of you knows better. It's easier if you just sit next to each other." Crystal grabs his shoulders, rotates spaces with him like they're dancing. She ends up next to Posey, who grabs her for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. They pose together, cheek to cheek while the crowd screams.

Posey probably thinks they're screaming for him. Dylan hears the way it changes, the sudden roar of approval when Tyler pulls his chair out, motions for Dylan to sit before Tyler drops into the chair next to him.

Dylan reaches out to pick up his and Crystal's name tags and exchange them. "Or I could just be Crystal for a day," he says quietly, just loud enough for the mic to project his whisper.

"You could dream," she says, plucking her name card from his hand and plunking it down on the table in front of her new spot. 

"No one could fill Dylan's shoes," Colton says, and the crowd laughs.

Dylan leans back, arms crossed. There's a warm weight against his shoulders, and when he looks over, Tyler has an innocent expression, his arm across the back of Dylan's chair. There's a low murmur somewhere.

It's begun.

Jeff opens with a few remarks, blessedly short, about what Teen Wolf meant when it began, and how proud he is of all the actors and actresses who have gone on to excellent careers. He mentions their current projects, including the fact that Tyler just returned from a shoot in Australia, and that Dylan's in negotiations for his next film.

The questions begin after that, and come in rapid-fire spurts. Posey talks about his fiancee, gestures to where she stands in the audience near Britt and Jen. Crystal goes into detail about her new project that she's doing with her daughters, and how natural they are in front of a camera. Holland recently finished a series of horror movies, and there's a long discussion about how her time with that series compared with her time on Teen Wolf.

Then the reminiscing begins, and Dylan leans forward, elbows on the table as he talks about his favorite scenes of the show. They try to get him to do a top ten countdown, but he refuses to put them in order, only saying that the scene with Scott and Stiles at the motel, the scene with Lydia and the panic attack, and pretty much every scene with Derek top the list.

When he sits back again, his hands trail on the table. He's about to move when Tyler's hand drops on top of his. Dylan glances over at him, dimly hearing Posey and Crystal laughing about an anecdote Posey's telling. All he can see is the way Tyler smiles as he twists their fingers together, carefully entangling them in full view.

The panel's almost over when the moderator calls for three more questions. Jeff answers one about whether there will ever be a reboot for Teen Wolf: _never say never_ , which Dylan interprets as he can't get it bankrolled without the original cast.

Then a girl steps up to the question mic, her gaze fixed on the table, staring right at Tyler. "Dylan, my question's for you."

Dylan leans forward to speak into his mic. "Go ahead."

"How would your wife feel if she knew you were cheating on her?"

Dylan frowns, sits back. Tyler squeezes his hand, and Dylan glances at that, then at Tyler, then out into the audience where Britt's pushing her way through to the mic stand for questions from the other side of the room.

"Excuse me." Britt's voice is softly polite as she takes the mic away from the man waiting patiently to ask the last question. "Dylan isn't cheating on me."

The girl pointedly doesn't look at Britt, keeps her attention on Tyler and Dylan, and where their hands are joined. "Dylan. Tyler Hoechlin. Do you deny that you're in a relationship?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Dylan spots Britt getting her hand over Jen's mouth just in time as his daughter makes a grab for the mic. Tyler's eyes crinkle with mirth, and he lifts their joined hands, kisses Dylan's fingertips.

Dylan expects noise. He expects something other than the complete silence that greets the movement.

He licks his lips, tries to wet his mouth. "I'm not denying anything, and neither is Britt," he says slowly. "Yes, Tyler and I are together. And I'm married to Britt, that hasn't changed. But that's not a topic for this panel, so please respect the cast and keep the questions to ones about our work, and our time on the show. We all have a lot of incredible, fond memories, and I wouldn't be where I am, or who I am, today without it. Teen Wolf meant the world to me, and I am thankful that Jeff gave me the opportunity to bring Stiles to life. I'm thankful that I got to know my best friends, and I am incredibly thankful that I met Tyler on the set. If there's anything else personal that you'd like to know, I hope you'll join us at the joint panel that Tyler and I are doing right after this one."

"My dad would never cheat on my mom!" Jen yells as soon as Britt lets her go, and Tyler bites back another laugh. Dylan lets his head fall on the table, Tyler's fingers at the nape of his neck as Dylan hits his head lightly against the tabletop.

"My mom always said I'd have at least one kid just like me," Dylan quips as soon as he raises his head. "And as you can see, I do. Britt and Tyler laugh at my expense. Often."

There's a tiny titter somewhere in the crowd, and it breaks the dam as the crowd erupts in laughter, cheers, chatter. The moderator whistles shrilly to get everyone to quiet down, and they manage to take that one last question. Dylan has no idea what it is, because Tyler's still grinning, and Britt and Jen are now waiting by the door, and Dylan can't wait to get at least this much of his family all together.

The moderator closes questions, and Dylan and Tyler are the first to stand. Colton laughs out loud, reaches out to grab Tyler before he can get away, and next thing Dylan knows he has an armful of Holland. It takes longer than the moderator likes to get them all off-stage, as they move in a group and everyone congratulates Tyler and Dylan.

When he steps down from the stage, Jen is right there, throwing her arms around Tyler, who leans down to hug her fondly. Britt catches Dylan for a kiss, then reaches for Tyler, winding her fingers into his. Tyler pulls her into the hug with Jen, kissing the top of her head, and something twists so brightly in Dylan's chest to have this here, now, right in front of everyone.

When Britt reaches out with her free hand, Dylan takes it, squeezing gently.

"C'mon, let's get you guys to your panel," Britt says, and the four of them move out together.

#

They move Dylan and Tyler's panel to a different room.

It was supposed to be one of the smaller halls, but when there are still a hundred more fans lined up outside the door, after standing room only has been filled, they take fifteen minutes to walk everyone down to another hall. Dylan knows they're shuffling the schedule because even though the panel starts late, they tell them to go ahead and go all the way until one instead of noon.

He knew they were going to make a splash, but he didn't expect this level of interest. He should have. He really should've planned for this, should've realized that after years of being so intensely private, doing something so public would garner this much interest.

Dylan lingers at the door, just outside the hall, while they finish seating the fans. Tyler has his hand and Dylan can feel the sweat between their palms and isn't sure which one of them is more nervous. Britt and Jen have yet to leave their sides.

"Can we sit at the table with you, Dad?" Jen asks quietly, and Dylan reaches over to ruffle her hair, beep her nose with his thumb. "God, Dad, I'm twelve, not two."

"Made you smile anyway," he points out, and she rolls her eyes.

"It would be okay, if you want your family to join you at the end of the table," the moderator says quietly. Her focus is on the air in front of her, and Dylan suspects there's a constant scroll of information through her VR attachment. "You were originally scheduled for an interview hall, with just the two chairs and the moderator space on stage, but you've been moved into one of the cast halls. So there's a long table, and plenty of room. It's not as intimate, or comfortable, but having your wife and daughter on stage won't be a problem."

Dylan glances at Tyler, and he shrugs. "I'm good," Tyler says. Jen throws her arms around Tyler, hugging him hard.

"Let's go," the moderator says, and just like that, it's showtime.

Jen bounces through the door first, her phone on and turned toward the audience as she strides across the stage. She waves with her free hand, blows a few kisses. Dylan can hear her chattering quietly to Gabe, Lissa, and Jules, and he has to resist grabbing the phone to ask how his other two children are weathering the storm.

He does pull his phone out to check for messages. There are a ton, but the one from Jules stands out: _We're fine. We're all fine, so just keep doing what you need to do._

Dylan exhales, glances over at Tyler when a hand falls on his shoulder. Tyler stands to one side, Britt to the other, and the moderator is just on the other side of the doorway, motioning for them to join her.

"Together?" Britt says, and Dylan nods, echoing with Tyler: together.

They walk out, and the room goes crazy. The screams hurt his ears, and it's only years of practice that keep Dylan from turning around and walking right back out. He puts on the smile that hides the rising anxiety, raises his hand. He touches Britt's back, guides her up onto the stage first, then follows behind her with Tyler's hand on his back. Britt pauses as they reach the center, glances down to where Jen sits a few chairs away, her phone still pointing at the audience.

"Stay with us," Dylan says, and Tyler reaches behind him to touch Britt's shoulder, gesture at the chair.

Because he can, Dylan pulls out Britt's chair for her. And because he's a giant goof, Tyler pulls out Dylan's chair and waits for him to sit. When Tyler just stands there, like he's waiting for someone to pull out his chair next, Dylan turns and pushes it out from the table with his foot, and gestures. "Is that gallant enough for you?"

"It'll have to do." Tyler sinks into the chair, his arm across the back of Dylan's shoulders, fingers just barely resting atop Britt's arm. He grins then, looks out at the audience. "Do we have anything to say, or should we just open it up to questions?"

"Dad," Jen mutters, her voice loud enough to be picked up by the mic still on the table in front of her. The moderator moves to remove it, but Britt gets a hand up, stops her before she does. Britt motions, and Jen flushes slightly. "I mean, just, let them ask their questions. God. You and Uncle Tyler totally dropped a bomb on them and all," Jen says.

"My daughter says we're opening it up to questions, so…." Dylan gestures at the two mics, one at the front of each of the two aisles between the chairs. "Come on up and ask."

Tyler leans forward, closer to his mic, both elbows on the table. "We'll do our best to answer everything, but please try to keep it polite, and PG-13." His gaze slides to Jen. "We'll let you pretend to be a teenager for the day, kiddo."

"Honestly," Jen grumbles. "Gabe and Lissa say hi. Aunt Jules says kill 'em, tiger."

Dylan gestures again, and the lines fill in down the row, probably far too many questions for them to answer all of them in the time allotted. One of the staff moves in from the sidelines, to check questions, and Dylan calls out, "Don't worry, we just won't answer the ones that are too personal. For everyone else, remember there are a lot people here. Be quick, and concise, and if someone else asks your question, come up with a new one, or have a seat. Let's keep it moving so we can answer as many as possible."

He gestures, and the first woman at the mic flushes brightly.

"Hi." Her voice cracks, and the flush intensifies. "I just want to say I really respect you. I mean, I respect both of you as actors, and I think you're incredible. Tyler, my Mom used to watch _Seventh Heaven_ when I was a baby. I didn't start watching _Teen Wolf_ until I was older, because I thought it was dorky, but then I was hooked. And now I'm like… wow. You guys made it, you totally made it. And I was just wondering, when you were teenagers--like Tyler, when you were making _Seventh Heaven_ and Dylan, when you were doing those YouTube videos--did you ever think you'd be here now?"

Dylan flashes her a bright smile, because this is something that's fun to talk about. "I dreamed," he says. "I used to think it'd be cool, but I don't know if I really believed I'd get here. My dreams changed all the time, depending on what was going on."

Tyler sets a hand atop Dylan's, takes the mic. "It's going to sound really corny," Tyler says, "but you just have to believe that your dreams will work out. You have to work for them, yes, but just keep doing what you love until you get there. And if you love it, you'll love working for it, too. But don't give up. Even if you feel like you've gone as far as you can get, there's always something new, something wonderful right around the corner. Don't stop growing."

Dylan gestures at Tyler with his thumb. "He's the optimist."

"And Dylan's the one who goes balls to the wall about everything," Britt chimes in.

"Do you have dreams, hon?" Dylan asks, and the woman ducks her head, nods once. "Come here." He stands up and motions for her to get close, asks the moderator to help her step onto the front of the stage. He reaches over the table to hug her, and a moment later, Tyler does the same. "There you go. A little of Tyler's belief and heart, and my tendency to overdo everything, just rubbed off on you. Go chase your dreams."

She's crying, and as Dylan sits back, he rubs across his eyes as well. He's always loved his fans, and it terrifies him sometimes how much they look up to him. But if something as small as a hug can help, he'll set up a line and hug them all.

He leans over to Tyler, murmurs, "Maybe a receiving line at the end, a hug for everyone?"

"If the moderators let us and you think you can handle it," Tyler agrees. And damn if that heart isn't a good part of what Dylan loves about him.

Tyler kisses his nose, and there's a cough from a mic.

"Excuse me." It's a younger man now, someone a few years older than Lissa, Dylan thinks. Maybe around the same age that Dylan was during the heyday of the show. Dylan motions for him to continue, and the man asks, "If the show had wanted Sterek to be canon, do you think it would've worked?"

"I'm really glad we didn't go there," Tyler says, and silence echoes after that. Tyler puts his hands up, "Wait," he adds quietly. "There's a story here."

"There is," Dylan agrees, Britt nodding beside him.

"The thing is, if Sterek had happened, I think it would've been good for the show," Tyler says. He grabs the mic from the table, leans back so he can cross his legs, get comfortable. Dylan can see the tightness in his shoulders, knows that this isn't as easy as Tyler's trying to make it look. "It would've been an important relationship in media," Tyler continues. "There were gay canon relationships on other shows, and this was one that a lot of people were waiting for. I don't know what would've happened to us if we'd gone there, though. I don't think people would've been content to see Sterek happen, and see the show end."

"And at the time," Dylan adds. "We," he gestures from Tyler to himself, "were complicated. And we didn't really know how bad it was. I mean, I had a thing for Tyler from the moment I saw him, but I wasn't going to tell him. He was my best friend, right? One of them anyway, and honestly, how weird was it that one TV show gave me two best friends name Tyler? My point is, Sterek would've complicated my feelings a lot."

"And it probably would've pushed me further into the closet," Tyler admits. "I wasn't ready for something like that. I wasn't ready at all to deal with anything then. So if they'd really pushed it, I would've gone along. We all knew that there was fantastic chemistry between Stiles and Derek, and we loved working with them together on the show. But if Sterek happened, and somehow… the show kept going past where it actually ended… I think it would've destroyed any chance for this to happen." He picks up Dylan's hand, shows their link. "And in the end, I'd rather have this."

Britt leans forward, says, "In case their rambling didn't answer the question: yes, Sterek would've worked for the show, but it really would've sucked for all of us up here on stage."

"Still say they should've hooked up on the show, I mean, really, Dad," Jen mutters, and the audience laughs.

The next girl in line is younger, maybe Lissa's age. There's a man standing with her, one hand on his shoulder, and she looks up at him as she gets to the mic. "I'm fine, Dad, it's not like the mic's gonna bite me. Jeez." She holds onto the mic stand, though, and Dylan can see her foot bouncing with nerves. "So, um, I had this whole really complicated question kind of about baseball and stuff, because I know Tyler played and then Dylan did that one movie, and I really would love to know if you've ever thought about doing some kind of a baseball movie together. But then you started talking, and I'm not going to ask that, because I'm just really curious. If Sterek maybe almost broke you, what brought you together?"

Dylan doesn't even look at Tyler, but they both answer in unison. "Britt."

"They blame me for everything," Britt says dryly. "But in this case, they're kind of right."

"It's because you're awesome," Dylan tells her. When she grips his shirt and pulls him close, the kiss is just barely this side of PG-13 but he really doesn't care because she's his Britt, and it's awesome, even after twenty-five years.

"Right, while they make out like teenagers…." Tyler says.

"They're gross," Jen tells him. "They're seriously like this all the time, like I come down into the kitchen and there they are, making out in front of the coffee maker."

It's called multi-tasking--making coffee and making out, all at once. Dylan likes those mornings.

"But then there was the time where Dad and you were sucking face by the pool, so I guess you're pretty gross too, Uncle Tyler," Jen finishes.

"Helpful," Dylan murmurs, and Britt laughs as she pulls away.

Tyler's eyebrows are up when Dylan turns around. It's his judgy Derek eyebrows, although his mouth is amused, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. Obviously Dylan needs to kiss him, too, so he does, long and lingering, until Britt clears her throat.

"Dyl, she's still waiting for an answer," Britt points out, and yes, while the girl who asked the question is smiling at them and seems pleased as punch, she's also still waiting patiently at the mic.

"It was Britt's fault?" the girl prompts, and the audience laughs.

Dylan's laugh is a little self-deprecating, his hand at the nape of his neck, rubbing lightly. "Yeah, well. So. There we were, and Britt and I had been together for like four years at that point. I was getting ready to go film the last _Maze Runner_ movie, and Britt and I were enjoying getting a little bit of time together before I left. And she just sat down next to me one night and was like _so are you ever going to tell me that you're in love with Hoechlin_ and I just… froze. I totally froze, because for one thing, I hadn't really talked to Britt about being bi, and it just seemed like I didn't need to bother since we were together and I thought she was it for me. And well, for another thing, I was already with Britt, so the fact that I had this massive crush--I thought it was just a crush, have I mentioned how good I am at deluding myself?--on one of my best friends couldn't mean anything. And besides. I knew Tyler was straight. So. I froze."

"I wondered if he was going to lie to me," Britt admits. "We'd never lied to each other. Oh, there were things we hadn't said. Like, obviously he hadn't told me he was bi. And I hadn't told him that I had my own thoughts on relationships. But they hadn't mattered. Yet. And now they did."

"Exactly. So. I managed to unfreeze, because Britt had her phone out, and she was showing me this video of Tyler sitting at a bar, and this girl asks him what kind of porn he likes and he says _guy on guy, not gay, but guy on guy_ and I started choking on air." 

"In case anyone still wonders just how much like Stiles he is," Tyler says, and the audience laughs.

"So that was my first hint that maybe Tyler wasn't as straight as I thought he was," Dylan says. "But I wasn't really ready for more revelations that night, and thankfully Britt didn't decide to load me up with them, because right after that, life pretty much went to hell. I started filming, I had the accident," he pauses for the low inhalation that always seems to go around the room when he mentions that. "And I wasn't in a good place for a while. Britt was there with me, through the accident and everything after. And I got back to filming and so much happened in the next year and a half. I recovered. We filmed the movie, and Jeff pulled me and Tyler back for the last part of Teen Wolf, and I filmed _American Assassin._ And life… pretty much exploded on the heels of that."

"He didn't have a lot of time left for friends," Tyler says, and Dylan leans into him, still apologetic after all this time.

"I didn't know how to make time," he admits. "I was working hard because that was part of my recovery, and I didn't know how to really slow down and look at where we were. We started to fix things around the time when Lissa was born. Posey and Jules are her godparents, and that's really awesome. We had pretty much our whole family and all of our best friends from various casts there when Lissa was born. And I remember Tyler asking me how I was going to balance things, now." He glances over at Tyler. "And it hit me, just like that, that I had to balance things or I was going to go insane. That I was going to get lost, and I didn't want to do that. And Tyler--I think he kind of took it upon himself to help us out."

Tyler spreads his hands. "I had inside information," he says slowly. "Jules and Britt were worried about Dylan. So I came to stay with them for a while, and Britt and I talked. Without Dylan." He makes a face. "Don't say we were cheating--we weren't. She wanted to make sure I understood a few things before she talked to Dylan, and she wanted to make sure I wasn't… uninterested…. And I was interested. I was really interested."

"Which is why he fled," Britt says dryly. "I scared him off. Completely. He went to Kenya with his dad on his annual trip, then he flew to Scotland to film a movie, then one down in Brazil. The next time we saw him was when Gabe was six months old."

"By which point Britt had explained polyamory to me, and that while she didn't want to jump Tyler's bones, she totally understood that I did, and she wasn't going to be jealous if I did," Dylan says.

"Bang like bunnies," Jen sing-songs quietly, and Tyler winces, expression pained.

"Please don't say that," Tyler whispers to her, and Jen's eyes open innocently. The phone in her hands aims at him briefly, and she types something in the virtual keyboard, probably to Lissa. Or Gabe. Or possibly Jules.

"It still took time," Dylan says quietly. "I was attracted to Tyler, and he was attracted to me. We were both trying to deal with this, and even though Britt had told both of us that it was okay, there were larger issues. Like the fact that we couldn't be together anywhere in public. Or the fact that between the three of us," he motions to both Tyler and Britt, then himself, "we had a hell of a shooting schedule. It seemed like we never got to spend time together. Until ten years ago."

The girl who asked the question still has the mic in her hands. "Here," she says. "Oh my God, you hooked up here."

Tyler flushes, ducks his head while smiling.

Britt snorts softly. "Yes, yes they did. After a night out with Colton and Jeff and we were all sharing that suite and I ended up crashing on the living room couch with Colton while Jeff passed out in their room with all the kids, and those two--"

"No details," Tyler says quickly, and Britt laughs out loud.

"I wasn't going to give them," she assures him. "I love you too much to do that to you."

"So it's been ten years," someone calls out. "Happy anniversary!" The audience picks it up, everyone yelling.

In the midst of it, Dylan turns to Tyler, raises an eyebrow before he goes in for a kiss. It's slow and sweet, and lingers nicely, leaving the taste of Tyler on Dylan's lips.

Dylan's pretty sure that pictures from ten years ago will be circulating again soon. Pictures of all of them out together, including ones where he was slow dancing with Britt, or the one where he was sitting on Tyler's lap in a bar because they'd run out of chairs. There were other pictures--plenty of pictures of the cast having fun together--that had covered it up, made it impossible to tell who was dating who at the time. He remembers that someone had suggested it was a giant Teen Wolf orgy, which it definitely wasn't.

But it was the moment that everything finally fell into place, and the next morning was his first morning with Tyler, as Britt crept into the room, leaned in to kiss Dylan awake. And he's never looked back since.

"Thank you," the girl says, and just before she hands the microphone to the next person in line, she says, "I still hope you do a baseball movie together, someday. Maybe something with little league. Do any of your kids act? Oh, sorry, that was another question." She backs away, laughing, as the microphone transfers hands.

"I'm pretty sure that any question will be easy after that," Britt says, and Dylan nods quickly. Easy, maybe. Less personal, probably. Because anything more personal he really doesn't plan to answer.

Most of the questions are as easy as he expects. Do they plan on doing a project together? They'd love to, if the right one comes along. Would they be willing to explain what they mean by polyamory? Britt steals the question to explain the concept of a V, while Tyler helps illustrate by grabbing Dylan's hand and raising it while Britt raises the other to make a V in the air. What projects do they have going right now? Dylan admits that he and Britt specifically scheduled to have a few months off, although he’s negotiating his next film for after that, and Tyler talks about he just wrapped filming in Australia. 

What do they plan to do with their vacation time?

Dylan glances at Tyler, squeezes his hand. Tyler inhales, exhales slowly as he reaches for his mic. He holds it, twists it in his hand. "I'm going home," Tyler finally says quietly. "I'm going home to be with my family. Finally."

#

They have to do an interview with the press. Britt takes Jen away to go explore the convention—the last thing Dylan hears is Jen yelling about needing to get to some panel. Then their handler ushers Dylan and Tyler into a small room, and mostly closes the door.

There’s one table and four chairs, and that’s about it in the room. A drink station to the side has coffee and cold water; Dylan pours two glasses filled with ice and water for himself and Tyler. He sinks into one of the chairs, drinks his glass mostly dry, then leans forward with his head on the table.

Tyler rubs his shoulders. “We’re okay,” he says quietly. “It’s out there now, and we get to go home soon.”

“They’re probably pissed off that we didn’t arrange for press beforehand,” Dylan mutters. “They’re all scrambling, trying to make sure that the news gets out. They’ll be in soon.”

“And we’ll talk to them, then we’ll go back to the hotel, have dinner with Britt and Jen, and then go to bed.” Tyler straddles the chair next to Dylan, keeps his hand on the middle of Dylan’s back. “You okay?”

Dylan inhales roughly. “Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just tired of being on, now.”

“It was fun, though,” Tyler says softly. “We told it our way. We controlled it. So there aren’t any rumors, there’s no story but the real one.”

“And I get to take you home.” Dylan reaches for Tyler’s hand, cradles it in both of his and kisses his fingertips. Once he’s sitting upright, he reaches for Tyler himself, pulls him close and kisses him slow and sweet. “And when we get home, I have a king size bed for all three of us,” Dylan whispers against his lips.

“I’ve been in it,” Tyler reminds him.

“You’re staying this time,” Dylan says, because that makes it different. His phone buzzes, so he pulls it out, touches it to answer before laying it on the table.

“Dad!” Lissa shouts. “Dad!”

“We’re here.” Dylan switches it over to video so Lissa can see them. As soon as Lissa switches as well, he sees her and Gabe and Jules, all gathered together on the couch. Tyler leans in close, one arm across Dylan’s shoulders, head tilted against his.

“Hey,” Tyler says. “Jen says we’re irrelevant but famous.”

“We think you should come home tonight,” Lissa says quickly. Her hoodie is back, her hair brushed back from her face. Gabe leans on her, waves at the camera.

“She’s right,” Gabe says. “People are going to be stupid and you need to give them time to get over it.”

“How are you guys doing?” Jules asks quietly.

Below the camera, Tyler reaches with his other hand. Dylan slides his hand across Tyler’s lap to grip it tightly.

“We’re okay,” Dylan says. “It’s kind of chaotic, but we’ve got a little breathing room. Jen’s off storming the convention, and Britt’s with her so she doesn’t get arrested for punching someone for saying the wrong thing.”

“She would,” Tyler says, sounding somewhere between horrified and proud.

“She would,” Gabe and Lissa echo in unison.

“I heard from Zach and he wasn’t even in your panel and he still says it’s all anyone’s talking about there,” Gabe tells them.

Tyler glances at Dylan and Dylan squeezes his hand in response. “You’re talking to Zach again?” Dylan asks.

Gabe shrugs one shoulder. “It’s not like it was. There’s this girl, Carrie, that he thinks he’s into. Maybe next year we’ll all meet up there. As friends. Zach has this other friend with him at the con, too, so I’ve been talking to him and Carrie and Rafe and they’re all pretty cool.”

“We’re all surviving here,” Jules says. “I told the kids that you’ll be okay there. No one’s going to assault you just because you came out. They’ll take a lot of pictures and ask a lot of stupid questions.”

“Still say you should come home and let them get the stupid out before you answer any more questions,” Gabe mutters.

“Can I maybe go with you next year?” Lissa asks idly. “There have been some totally cute guys who almost seem like they might not be complete dorks posting stuff about you guys.”

“What about Jordan?” Dylan can’t keep up with teenage relationships. He wonders how his life turned out so different, pair-bonding with Tyler and Britt as young as he did. Maybe he should’ve been more like his kids, figuring out what he was looking for.

Except he found what he was looking for on the first try. And he got damned lucky that they wanted him in return, even if it took time to get it all sorted out.

“Jordan’s okay, but it’s not like we’ll still be dating in a year. I mean, God, Dad, that’s like forever,” Lissa tells them. “It’d be like getting married and I am so not ready to do that at sixteen.”

“We’ll think about it.” Tyler kisses Dylan’s cheek, nuzzles his ear as the kids yell and Jules chuckles. “I wouldn’t mind being home faster, but Jen might complain if we make her leave.”

Dylan flinches at the knock on the door, reminds himself that he doesn’t have to pull away. Not now, not ever again. At the point when the door pushes open, Tyler grins and kisses him, while Gabe and Lissa mutter about how it’s _so gross_.

“We have to go,” Dylan says, and cuts the call before anyone can get another word in edgewise. It’s time to meet the press, then find his child and wife so they can think seriously about the idea of getting out. As the reporter seats herself on the other side of the table, Dylan leans toward Tyler and whispers, “If you’re up for it, I think I want to go home.”

#

Jen falls asleep as soon as they reach the open highway. Britt stretches across the back seat, curls into the corner. “Will it bother you if I sleep as well?” she asks, and Dylan shakes his head.

“You had the toughest job today—following that one around the convention. Did she buy one of everything?” Dylan asks.

“Not quite one of everything, but one of many things, and two of several other things. There are bags of gifts in the back, too, for Gabe and Lissa and Jules, and even some things for you guys,” Britt admits. “And she had to stop and talk to every vendor. There was one artist there who recognized her from the panel, and they got to talking about Teen Wolf. Jen, of course, informed her that she was named after Jennifer Blake.”

Tyler raises an eyebrow, turns in his seat. “Oh?”

“I reminded her that she’s named for a relative,” Britt says, “and Jen replied that she doesn’t have any aunts or uncles named Jen, but she _does_ have an aunt named Julia. So, obviously she was named Jennifer because of Julia Baccari.”

Dylan snorts, because Jen finally figured it out.

“You have a superfan,” Tyler muses. “I still can’t believe you named my godchild after that character.”

“I wanted to name her after my sister, and I didn’t want two people answering when I yelled Jules,” Dylan says easily. “It was a lot simpler when we were the only ones who got the joke.”

“Superfan,” Tyler repeats.

Dylan pokes his leg. “But we’re not relevant anymore. You have to remember that part.”

“We’re old.”

“Does that mean we can do whatever we want and give no fucks?” Britt asks.

“I thought that’s what today was about,” Tyler replies. “It’s our lives. We don’t care what they think.”

They do care. They have to care, at least a little, and there will be an impact on their careers. Dylan knows this. But at the same time, they are finally going to live their lives out in the open. “I am in for the giving no fucks,” Dylan says. He puts his hand up between the two front seats, waits for both Britt and Tyler to hold on so he can squeeze them both. “I love you. And I love that you’re both willing to do this.”

Britt makes a small noise. “I want you happy.”

“It’s not like I don’t have a relationship with Britt, too, or with your family,” Tyler reminds him. “It’s just a different relationship.” He pauses, grins, stopping when Dylan claps a hand over his mouth.

“No one is saying _bang like bunnies_ ever again in this family,” Dylan says, while Britt falls back laughing. “No one.”

Tyler licks his palm, which is childish and makes Dylan laugh. He pulls his hand back, focuses on the road ahead. They’ve got time before they make it home, after all.

Britt eventually naps in the back, while Tyler tells stories about his family, and about pranks from the set of his latest film. Dylan’s exhausted, but he focuses on the goal, on knowing where they’re going and why. They didn’t leave San Diego until after eleven; they’ll be home in the wee hours of the morning. And all he wants is to be there. To move on.

When Dylan’s phone buzzes, Tyler picks it up. “Jules says that the kids are waiting up,” he says quietly.

“It’s only another half hour.” Dylan assumes that _waiting up_ means Lissa has been dozing through whatever TV series she’s watching right now, and Gabe’s mid-game and probably hasn’t even noticed what time it is yet. “She’s probably already exhausted.”

“She’s saying something about the third pot of coffee—at least I think she’s saying coffee, since it’s spelled with a ch, four Fs, and some random vowels at the end.” Tyler glances over. “I’m pretty sure your sister is either exhausted or over-caffeinated.”

“Or both.”

“Probably both.” Tyler drops the phone back on the center console, then rests a hand on Dylan’s knee. “How are you doing? It’s been a long day.”

“My eyes want to close, but honestly, if you keep doing that, I’m going to be wide awake all the way home,” Dylan admits. He shakes his knee a bit, reminding Tyler that there are two other passengers in the car.

“‘M’not giving up th’bed tonight,” Britt mumbles from the back. “Don’ start something you can’t finish. Don’ get us killed, either. Dyl’s got a lead foot.”

“We are not talking about this with Jen in the car,” Dylan mutters.

Tyler drags his fingers up the inside of Dylan’s thigh, stopping short, fingers pressed against his inseam. “Don’t worry, Britt. I think Dyl’s awake, and safe.”

Dylan’s definitely awake now. Wide awake, and well aware that his chances of getting to finish these particular thoughts are pretty slim. Still, as Tyler digs up more stories from the set, and Dylan talks about the projects that he and Britt have been sifting through, it makes the last thirty minutes go by a bit faster.

When he pulls up in front of the house, every light—upstairs and downstairs—is on. He thinks about honking, just to give them fair warning, but there’s no need. The front light flicks off, then on again before the door opens, and Gabe and Lissa push through. Gabe makes it down the stairs before he stops, rocking back on his heels and hooking his thumbs in his jeans like he’s too cool to run to them.

For once, Lissa doesn’t seem to care about appearances. She yanks open the passenger door, leans in, and throws her arms around Tyler’s shoulders, kissing his cheek. “I am so glad you’re here,” she says. “And I mean I am so glad that I am not even going to ask about my birthday present—which should be in the trunk, I know. I’m just glad you’re home. And I mean it. This is home. Right? Dad? Mom?”

Tyler gets out slowly, wraps his arms around Lissa and holds on. “It’s good to see you, too, Lis. And yes. I’m home.”

She pulls away, brow scrunched. “For good?” she asks.

The rear door opens, and Jen rubs at her eyes. “Not letting him leave,” she mutters, stumbling to her feet. “He’s my Tyler.”

“Come on, Jen. Inside.” Britt gets an arm around Jen’s shoulders, slowly ushers her to the house. “Everyone, let’s get inside. Dylan, can you and Tyler get the bags?”

“Your present’s on the way,” Tyler murmurs. “Tanner’s shipping all my things. I won’t even have a place to go back to.”

Lissa swallows hard, blinks back wetness. Dylan touches her shoulder, and she smiles slightly, eyes still watering. “Good,” she says. “And now I’m going to bed.” She turns on her heel, walks unsteadily to the door and follows Britt and Jen inside.

“I’ll help.” Gabe’s right there, grabbing bags from the trunk. Between the three of them, it’s easy to make it in one trip, with Jules holding the door. 

As soon as Gabe drops what he’s carrying, he stands there, licks his lips. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says.

“Me too.” Tyler reaches out, pulls Gabe in for a quick hug. “Go to bed. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

“You could have told them we’d wake them up,” Dylan comments, leaning his shoulder into Jules.

“Have you met your children? I would’ve had to drug them to get them to sleep,” she says, covering her mouth for a big yawn. “I think they were feeding off my energy. I was getting ready to start showing them your old YouTube videos to see if that put them to sleep.”

“Thanks, Jules, I feel the love.” He does, though. Not just in the way she’s always there when he needs her, even though she has her own family waiting for her. She supports him, and she always has. He drags her closer, hugs her hard. “Go. Get some sleep.”

“Too much caffeine, I am going to vibrate all night long.” She disengages, gets a quick hug from Tyler as well, then nudges Gabe. “Come on. I know you’re barely functional, and I know I am. Let’s get some sleep.”

They head up, and Dylan’s left in the entryway with a pile of luggage and Tyler.

He really doesn’t care about the luggage.

“We could find somewhere to finish what you started?” he suggests, flushing when Tyler laughs.

“You can barely stand upright.” Tyler steadies Dylan when he wavers, and yes, maybe Tyler has a point. 

“Bed then,” Dylan says. He grabs both of Tyler’s hands, tugs him to the stairs, leaving the luggage where it sits. “That big bed, with me and Britt and the shades drawn tight, and with any luck, Jen won’t pound on the door too early.”

“You realize she’s the only one of us who’s slept,” Tyler says dryly. “She’ll be the first up.”

“Bed,” Dylan says. They make their way up the stairs slowly, pausing to kiss on every other step, skin off shirts at the top of the landing. By the time they make it into his room, Dylan’s half-aroused and half-asleep. Tyler lifts the corner of the sheets, and Dylan burrows in, making a nest between his wife and his lover.

He’s asleep before he takes the next breath.

#

Dylan’s warm. A thin bead of sweat trickles down his spine, and he grumbles, rolling over and throwing the covers off. Britt knees him in the thigh, grabbing onto the comforter and rolling away while Dylan tucks himself back against Tyler.

Without the covers, even between the two of them, now he’s starting to get cold.

Still. This is the rarest of the mornings, the ones where he wakes up with both Britt and Tyler in his bed, and it is definitely his favorite way to start the day.

He runs his hand over Britt’s shoulder, listens for her soft murmur of _I love you quit it_ , and huffs a low laugh. Behind him, Tyler shifts, hips pressing against Dylan’s ass. Dylan reaches back then, squeezes Tyler’s ass, then up to run his fingers through Tyler’s hair. An answering murmur, so Dylan turns, captures a quick kiss.

When he tugs, Tyler ends up sprawled on top of him, straddling him.

“You could just go back to sleep,” Tyler murmurs, rubbing his scruff against Dylan’s cheek.

“Pretty sure I’m awake now,” Dylan tells him, shifting his hips up. “Care to find out just—ow!” He cuts off when Britt pokes his shoulder sharply.

“Go do it in the shower,” she grumbles, pulling the comforter over her head. “Come back to me when I’m done sleeping.”

Tyler raises an eyebrow. “You like showers,” he points out.

There’s a thump against the door, and Lissa’s voice yelling, “Mom! Dad! Gabe’s playing his game so loud I can hear it in my room! And Jen’s wrecking the kitchen because she says she’s making breakfast!”

“Your mom’s still sleeping,” Dylan calls back while Britt makes an irritated noise. “Go help your sister. We’ll be down soon.”

Lissa manages to convey her displeasure in the tread of her steps to the stairs. Tyler leans down, kisses Dylan slowly and smiles. “This is our life now,” Tyler murmurs.

Britt rolls toward them, one hand touching Tyler’s cheek, then landing on Dylan’s chest as she murmurs something that sounds like agreement.

Dylan fails to hide his laugh. “This is our life,” he agrees, then pushes Tyler off as he rolls out of bed. He hops while stripping. “Race you to the shower!” he yells, and he manages to escape before Britt throws something at them.

This is their life now. Tyler’s home for good, and it’s going to be perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> I am also super quietly [on tumblr](http://ididntwannashipit.tumblr.com).


End file.
